Destruction through dollars
by IrreversibleMistake-xx
Summary: Poor little rich kid. Spends his days drinking in his room, obessing over Troy. Spends his nights at wild parties and coming ever closer to the day when he'll pass out over the toilet and not wake up.And noone cares. Noone ever has. Please read & reveiw
1. Just an addict

He remembered the first time he had every gotten drunk. He'd been the ripe old age of 17 years old.

_**Just a few months ago**_

_The music was piped to insane decibels, the bodies gyrating at an unnatural speed. You could've guessed it. It was a high school party. An 'East' high school party, to be more specific. It was at Chad's house, which was pretty small when Ryan compared it to his own grotesquely large home. Ryan kind of liked it here, it was semi-cramped, but without as many foyers and hallways as he and Sharpay had, you could tell if someone was here that you didn't want. In Ryan and Sharpay's house, someone could be creeping along the marbled hallways with a cleaver knife at you and you wouldn't even notice. Ryan sat in a corner, a beer in one hand, staring. Staring, at East high royalty. Which specific member of the Royals? Troy Armidaeus Bolton. He was stood at the very core of the thriving crowd, hands creeping all over his girlfriend, Gabriella. The most eligible woman in the entirety of East High. Long beautiful flowing black hair, full lips, heaving chest, it was no wonder that Troy chose her above the many other girls craving his attention, not to mention some guys as well. Ryan being one of them._

_Troy and Gabi were dancing back to chest, Gabriella's ass grazing Troy's crotch every now and again. Troy's hand creeped over her shoulder, trying almost desperately to catch a slight brush of her breast. The one time he got near, she grabbed his hand immediately and yanked it away, placing it back on her waist. Gabriella caught a sight of Taylor entering the room, and sharply broke away from Troy and ran over, tottering uncertainly in her high heels. Troy looked around, alone on the dance floor. Several girls scoped him but before any of them could get their fake, stuck on talons into him, he made his way over to Ryan._

_Now that his feet were not planted solidly on the ground, exactly how drunk Troy actually was. Crashing into more than five girls on the way towards him, but surprisingly only getting dirty looks from one (an angry looking emo girl who he suspected to be called Heather), he made his way eagerly over to Ryan. Slinging an arm over Ryan's shoulder and breathing a wave of vodka breath into Ryan's eyes, making them water. Ryan grinned sheepishly, taking a minute sip of beer, when what he really wanted to do was jump in ecstasy and do some retarded version of the Macarena. Simply because Troy was touching him. What Troy did next sent fire-works exploding into Ryan's mind. Leaning in and nearly falling, Troy smiled stupidly at Ryan and suddenly slurred:_

"_I love you Ry," He said, still on the nasty vodka breath. He pressed his face up against Ryan's face, planting a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. Ryan's whole face got chingly shivers. Ryan's heart leapt into his throat and felt like it was going to burst. His brain seemed to stop momentarily and he was just about the happiest than he ever had been in his life. He was about to reply to Troy when he carried on:_

"_You're the best'st friend ev'r," he slurred quite happily. This time Ryan's heart did not beat loudly. Instead, it seemed to just…stop. He wanted to fall to the ground and cry. He pulled away from Troy, who almost fell to the ground due to Ryan's sudden withdrawal. _

_Gibbering as he backed slowly away, he turned on his heels and ran, determined not to let anyone here see him crying. He ran out into the small garden, where some skinny blonde girl was passed out over the tacky green lawn furniture, a tall gangly red-head smoking in a corner. Ryan ran passed, sinking to the mud behind one of the areas few trees. He finally let the tears of his feeling for Troy run free. Many ran over his face, splashing and dissolving into the dirt beneath him. Not caring for his designer jeans, he sat on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees. Nobody he loved gave a damn about him. Not Troy, not Sharpay, not anyone. He wiped at his eyes almost viciously, almost wanting to hurt himself. He pounded the tree behind him, smashed his fists into the floor, and pressed his hands hard to his head, leaving long muddy imprints where his hand has been. He was breathing like he had ran a long race, his blue and white open shirt flapping in the wind showing his white t-shirt underneath. His hat lay on the floor beside him, top down in the mud. He glanced at it, loath filling his eyes. It was just another a sign of how much power everyone had over him, not just Sharpay, but Troy too. Troy had the power to make Ryan hate himself. Hate his body, his mind, not give a damn about how he looked at this moment. Holding him up by the tree, he pulled himself upright and walked out; head held high, arms crossed over his chest. Now he passed again, he could see what the unconscious blonde was actually wearing. A light pink vest top, white pants and a dark pink sequinned shrug. Who else could it be? A bottle lay lop-sided in her hand, and unbelievably, Sharpay Evans was actually snoring! Making a cruel decision to leave her to Zeke, her boyfriend of months now, he made his way into the proportionally accurate kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Brian and Cyndra in a tight embrace in the corner, behind the kitchen island. A smile tugged at Ryan's face, but he would not let it through. He could not let it through. He was too upset to be happy. Too upset to smile. Then, he noticed something. Something lying on the edge of the unit, diagonal from him. It was a bottle. A bottle of vodka._

_He had never drunk before; spare a glass or two of wine at his parent's country club, and a beer at parties. But something was drawing him towards it. He couldn't place his finger on what, but something about that liquid clear bottle just called out to him. Calling, 'Hey, I can make you forget that everyone hates you!' or 'Hey Loser, I'm just what you need to make you less of a low-life.' Or 'Hey you, I can make the world seem much, much better.' A few sips were all he needed. Making a sudden a lunge at the bottle, he grabbed it by the neck and made his way upstairs, the bottle jammed under-neath his shirt. He found a room where no-body was, a bedroom, Chad's by the look of it. Wildcat posters, Computer with games he shouldn't be playing, DVDs on the shelf that he shouldn't be watching. A container of FRO-GLO lay on the bedside cabinet. Yes, definitely Chad's. He twisted the cap off the bottle, and contemplating it for only a few moments, brought it to his lips. It burned at his throat, made his feel like gagging and yet…he couldn't bring himself to not take another mouthful. Not because he wanted it, or he liked it, but because it reminded him. Of Troy. And whilst the thought of him repulsed Ryan, the same smell made him drawn to the bottle of what felt like his elixir, his life. And why did it feel like his life. Because it smelt like Troy. And Troy __**was**__ his life. _

_About a sixth of the bottle in, he found the world had blurred over nicely, giving the fairy-lights in the garden (Taylor's idea, Ryan suspected) a nicely soft glow. Less oppressive, more simple. Just what Ryan liked. He lay back on Chad's bed, staring at the poster on the ceiling. It was the same giant poster that was in the Math hallway at school, the one with the basketball team on it. Ryan found himself looking at the blown-up image of Troy. Ryan breathed lighter. Bringing the bottle to his lips again, he closed his eyes and shut Troy out. Shut out Troy's stingingly blue eyes, his lips so plump they looked like they hurt, his abs, thought not visible through his wildcat's jersey, so toned and perfect. Just shut him out of his mind. Maybe, Ryan thought whilst drinking again from the bottle, if he tried to shut Troys image out of his brain enough (though it remained lingering behind his eyelids), he could shut out the feelings as well._

_Soon, Ryan found himself a little over halfway through the glass bottle. He found that now, he didn't like what was happening. The world was not blurred over nicely anymore, but he still couldn't see, things were now weaving in and out of one another. It was dizzying him, and when he stood to find someone, anyone to make it stop, he fell straight to the ground. He was nearly in tears again. He didn't like this, it was scary and he felt ill and he just wanted it to stop. As he hauled himself onto the bed again, everything momentarily stopped weaving, and suddenly, just started spinning in perfect circles. Ryan groaned as his stoumach heaved itself into his throat, giving Ryan the distinctive feeling that what he'd eaten for lunch wasn't going to stay inside of him for very long. He thought he could faintly he voices, but they became steadily louder and giddier. They became accompanied by two pairs of footsteps, one loud and heavy, and the other quieter but somewhat sharper, tapping out a steady rhythm along the wooden tiled landing. The door to Chad's bedroom swung open, and Ryan's eyes, which had been directed to where he had heard the footsteps, saw two pairs of shoes, one large, hard-soled sneakers, the other elegant white heels, fastened by a silky ribbon, wrapping twice around the leg and tying halfway between the knee and the ankle. The heel scattered backward, in between the sneakers. One voice began to speak:_

"_I'll show you the primitive mating instincts of male mammals," some one muttered, sounding as though their lips were stuck together. When Ryan directed his attention to the peoples face rather than their legs, he realised to legs belonged to two people he knew: Chad and Taylor. And Chad's lips weren't stuck together; they were stuck to Taylor's. She was ripping of her button-down sweater, a sweet little baby-pink number, when she noticed Ryan sat on the bed. She screamed, covering her self with the jumper, even though she was wearing a deep ocean blue shirt underneath, and ran from the room. Chad, who had been un buttoning his own shirt, heard Tailors scream and looked at Ryan, a look between confusion and supreme annoyance on his face._

"_Ryan?" he asked rather dimly. Ryan couldn't answer, the reason being that he felt as though if he opened his mouth, they were not in for a pretty sight. Chad made his way in front of Ryan, standing along the side of the bed. He glanced the side-table and took a double-take of the bottle. _

"_Ryan? Have you been drinking?" He asked, a calming note in his voice, placing a hand on Ryan shoulder. He wasn't the greatest when it came to emotions, but even he could tell something was wrong. Ryan looked pale and withdrawn, sickly. He was shaking a little too. Before Ryan could stop anything happening, his stoumach lurched. His face contorted, and leant forward, vomiting all down himself and on the most part of Chad's jeans and sneakers. Tears were leaking down Ryan's face as the same substance that had scalded his throat going down, burnt twice as much coming back up. Chad had leapt back with his arms up, as it some one had thrown him a hot potato, Ryan's vomit dripping off him. Once it had stopped, Chad looked around uncomfortably. Now his feeling towards Ryan was a confusing mixture of confusion, supreme annoyance, complete anger, and pity too. Seeming totally unsure of what to do, he did what every man does when he's out of his depth: he turned to a woman. _

"_TAYLOR! PROBLEM!" he yelled out of his bedroom door, flicking bits of puke of his knees. Taylor must have been waiting for Chad outside in the hallway, because she came rushing in, straight over to the bed and went straight into nursing, motherly-Taylor mode, the mode she used when Chad was drunk at parties and falling around crying everywhere._

"_Oh Ryan, what on earth possessed you to do this?" She asked. Ryan was laying back on the pillow, whilst Taylor fussed over his stained clothes and sore throat. _

"_Troy…" he muttered under his breath, so softly even he had to strain his own ears to hear it._

"_What?" she asked, kind of absent-mindedly. 'Nothing' Ryan answered. Sending Chad away for a glass of water, she pulled off his white shirt and buttoned his blue over-shirt up all the way. Usually he would care about someone seeing his scrawny, under-developed body, but he didn't have to energy or the will power. Chad scurried back into the room with the water. Taylor sat him up and made him sip at it, whilst one-handedly trying to fish her cell-phone out of her purse. Whilst it sounded easy, it looked pretty tough, since her left arm had to loop around the right to get to the purse without knocking the glass._

"_You're freaking amazing, do you know that?" Chad asked, staring out of the window._

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Now make a use of yourself and get Zeke's ass up here." She snapped at her unhelpful boyfriend, tossing her gold and silver cell to him. After a few drinks, Chad's hand-eye coordination was not all it could have been, and he let it slip between his forefingers. Taylor groaned and turned back to Ryan. He felt horrible; weak and dishevelled. It was at this moment where he made a mental note NEVER to drink ever again. A few minutes later, Zeke arrived in the room, carrying Sharpay bridal-style, her arms linked around his neck. _

"_Oh thank god, you haven't left!" Taylor grinned, hugging Zeke and squashing Sharpay's sleeping form. "Think you can handle another?" She asked, jabbing her head in Ryan's general direction._

"_Yeah, fine." Zeke replied absently. Sharpay sniffled in her sleep, her arm shooting up and slapping Zeke in the chin. "I hope he isn't as, uh, violent, as his sister?" _

_Chad laughed and shook Ryan's arm._

"_Hey buddy, think you're up to walking?" he asked. Ryan grunted in what Chad supposed was agreement. Helping his intoxicated friend to his feet, Chad let go of Ryan's hand. It was a bad idea, as the world lurched again and Ryan fell forward, and would have smacked his face, lest Taylor caught him._

"_Maybe not," Chad agreed with himself. "I'll grab him." Hooking his arm under Ryan's legs and pulling him of the ground with his throbbing Wildcat muscles, Chad made his way out of the room, Zeke tailing him. As they made their way down into the family room, many people stopped dancing and stared. The picture perfect Evans twins being carried drunk out of a party? Sharpay, they were used to, but Ryan? He was just too……frail, too timid, to do anything like that. Troy noticed, and chased them out of the door._

"_What happened to him, then?" Troy asked, a note of worry in his voice, motioning to the quivering bundle in Chad's arms. Chad shrugged, and was about to get in the car behind Ryan when Troy grabbed his arm lightly._

"_Nah, man, this is your party, go back in and enjoy yourself! I'll take care of this." Chad needed no further convincing, grinning broadly as he made his way hurriedly back to his bedroom, grabbing Taylor on the way._

"_Who would've expected huh?" Zeke said, making conversation, as he rounded a sharp corner. The turn knocked Ryan, and he collapsed sideways into Troy's lap. Well, more like Troy's crotch._

"_Um, oh, yeah. Always the quiet ones," He muttered quietly, uncomfortable with the placement of his 'best'st friend'. He looked down at Ryan's face, sleeping, breathing softly, as opposed to his sister, who was snoring like a jack-saw in the passenger seat. He was still quite drunk, but he found himself unwilling to move him until nature saw good to do so. Nature evidently saw good to do so a few minutes later, as Zeke rounded another sharp bend and sent Ryan's face reeling into the car window_

"_Owie," he whimpered, rubbing his head. Troy laughed inwardly. Owie? Ryan slung am arm around Troy's shoulders. _

"_Nighty-night Troy."_

He still remembers it like it was yesterday. Back then things were simple. You got drunk, you said something stupid, you threw up, you slept, and you woke up with a hangover to kill and a sister who seemed impervious to them. That was then. This is now. And because of that stupid fucking Troy Bolton, now he's an addict.

And there no turning back.

_**All done, I think I may have found my third wall with this story, I think it's gonna turn out well, but If you don't, or do, or just feeling like dropping me a line, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. Please (I'm a looser, they make me happy )**_


	2. Drinking with You

"Don't forget class, France tomorrow!" Mrs. Darbus said gleefully, clapping her hands in a very Sharpay-esque manner. Ryan rolled his eyes. A week cramped into a small hotel room with three of his moronic class-mates. Mrs. Darbus buzzed off behind her desk, leaving her students to mutter. Gabriella turned sideways to Taylor. Sharpay turned to Zeke. Troy leant over to Chad's desk. Ryan sat on his own, staring at the blackboard.

'France...' he thought 'Strong wines, strip clubs and the Evan's platinum card...' A smiled pulled at his cheeks, and he ran his tongue along his lips. He was brought back from his musings by a hand slamming down on his desk.

"Ryan!" it was Sharpay. "Make sure the Louie Vittons' are packed tonight. I still need 9 hours sleep." She demanded, and flirted off back to her desk. Ryan sighed. Fan-fucking-brilliant.

He dumped his books on the carved table by the door, and ran up to his room. Three green suitcases were stationed at the rear of his bed. Four Louie Vittons' and a carry-on were parked in a like position in Sharpay's bedroom. Silently, he reached under his bed and pulled out an old carrier bag. There was an even older hat-carrier in the bag. And in the carrier, was several bottles of what Ryan considered to be his very essence. He pulled one out and threw the padded hat-box onto his pile of luggage, and yanked the top of it. Sucking viciously at the tip like a hungry infant, he was more than aware of the cons of getting on a plane with a hangover, but he quickly discouraged the thought and set the bottle down on his dresser. He was so used to the liquid now, such a small amount barely effected him. Lying back on his silk throw-down pillows, he pulled out his Chem homework. He allowed himself to be engulfed in though again. Wondering whether he'd get roomed with Troy (please), wondering what his ab's looked like, wondering when Shar was going to get home, and who in their right mind would call an element 'ununununium'. Finally, Sharpay stormed into the house and pounded up the stairs. Ryan jumped up in scared hurry, and tossed the half emptied bottle under his bed. Sharpay came into Ryan's room, rather loudly. She sat down at the end of Ryan's bed.

"So, my bags are packed, right?" She asked simply, stroking Ryan's fuzzy hot water bottle cover.

"Yes Sharpay," He replied testily.

"Good. And don't take that tone with me." She snapped, getting to her feet and leaving. Her heels clacked their way to her own room. The airing vent whirred. Ryan sat back into his pillows and closed his eyes. "One more day. One more day," One more day, and he can run away from Sharpay on a whole new continent. The next morning Sharpay woke him with a sharp slap round the head. As his eyes opened blurrily, he saw he stood there in a white and pink night dress and eye mask.

"Hurry up. The bus'll be here in a few hours." Sharpay said, and left. A few seconds later, he shoved the pillow back over his head. A few hours? A few hours too early more like. An hour and 45 minutes later, he lugged himself out of bed. Getting changed into a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt, he began to carry his bags down the curving stairs into the foyer. The bus turned up a few minutes after he carried Sharpay's last LV snakeskin clutch down stairs. Bolting for the bus, he left the bus driver in his dust, and the in the midst of the luggage of ten people.

The plane ride was uneventful: Ryan spend most of it with his face stuck to the window in deep, hangover reducing sleep. As they unboarded in Paris, France, and rode along the Champs-Elysees, a huge shopping avenue to their hotel. Sharpay practically squee'd out loud when she saw the sign for the ajoining day spa. They grouped into the shiny marble hall, where a tall, skinny, manicured French assistant stode with a very offical looking clipboard.

"Bonjour enfants. Si vous pourriez être ainsi sorte quant à la réponse que vous appelle ainsi je peux assigner des salles. Mademoiselle Evans'?"(1)

"Right here!" Chad screamed, grabbing Ryans' arm and yanking it into the air. Ryan clamped it back to his side and scowled. To be perfectly honest, he was suprised Chad could understand that much French. Due to frequent trips to Left Bank boutiques, both him and Sharpay were fluent. She grinned catily and raised her hand.

"Droite ici, Madame."(2) She said, walking out to the womans side.

"Et Mademoiselles Montez et McKessie?"(3) The two girls struggled to the front with their Walmart luggage. Ryan still had hold of Sharpays.

"Bon. Vous de jeunes dames resterez dans le plancher de la chambre cent quatre, deuxième et faire une gauche,"(4) All three girls understood. They went and sat patiently at the side of the room for their 'men', so to speak. After four other groups, the mad old french bat finally got to Troy's name.

"Monsiuers Bolton, Danforth, vous serez dans sept de la chambre cent vingt. Le deuxième étage, prennent une droite.Attendez, là êtes un garçon à gauche...Mister Evans, vous sera dans la même salle."(5) Troy looked blank. Chad groaned. Ryans mouth dropped open. He was going to be within touching distance...of Troy...for a whole night. He screamed inwardly. Yanking his and Sharpays luggage behind him, he started up the stairs. He'd made it up the first flight, then he tripped, sending four of the twelve bags tumbling down the stairs. 'Oh Crap,' was his immediate reaction. Troy, who had had to swerve-and-duck to avoid Sharpay's shoe bag, caught hold of a couple of handles.

"Let me help you with that," He said casually. Ryan would had smiled the stupidest smile ever, lest his lips were stuck to his teeth.

"This is gonna be the night!" Chad sighed, boucing onto one of the hotels bed's. "I can feel it!"

"What can you feel? It's not that rash again, is it? Coz' if it is, I'm not getting conned into rubbing lotion all over your ass." Troy paused. "Again,"

"No, I mean this is the night Taylors gonna sleep with me!" Chad replied, rubbing his hands together. "I even brought lubricant,"

"Eww, too much information dude." Troy exclaimed, dumping Ryans bag on a bed. Chad began rooting around in his suitcase.

"Not THAT kind of lubricant, you perve," he said, breathlessly. "I mean this," he finished, pulling a bottle of wine out of his bag. Troy eyes glimmered devilishly. He scurried over to Chad with a hungry look in his eyes. Ryan bit his inner lip. It was sad, but it took alot of his will power for him not to go and snatched it out of his hands.

"Maybe we should try this out a lil' bit, don't you think. Ryan?" Ryan grunted and started searching the bedside cabinet to occupy himself. Chad snatched the bottle back and shoved it into the nightstand.

"Haha. That wine has a mission and I don't intent on you to fools getting it confiscated by the Darbus." Troy made a smartass comment about date rape drugs and alcoholism, which caused Chad to pounce on him and deliver a 'ghet-to beat-down' as he referred to it as. After bruising Troy's liver, he went off to find Taylor, who Ryan presumed knew nothing about Chad's plan for the night.

By 10 that evening, most of the horny teenagers had gone of into the city to do theire thing, both Ryan and Troy were hanging around in the lobby. Taylor and Chad were off somewhere probably humpin like monkeys, Kelsi and Gabriella were out watching some fancy music show, and Sharpay and Zeke had gone shopping. Well, Sharpay had gone shopping; Zeke held the bags. The heaviest thing Sharpay would carry was her credit card. They sat on the couch for a while until Troy sat up.

"Hey Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Want to do something? Cards?" He asked innocently. Ryan obliged, and trooped back up to the suite. Conversations started and dwindled away, as the pair slaved through rounds of boring card games. Ryan slumped against the pillows.

"God, this trip is so BORING!" he exclaimed. Troy got off the bed, making it bounce happily. He was about to ask what he was doing, when Troy answered his telepathic question.

"I say, we," Quotation marks "'Borrow' Chad's wine and have a little fun. He popped the cork on the bottle, making his muscles swell with pride. Ryan had to catch his breath. Putting the bottle to his mouth, he threw his head back, sending the warm liquid rocketing into his brain. He had a few swills, before smiling with his mouth full, and jiggling the bottle at Ryan. Ryan needed no further convincing.

"Y'know girls, right, they have nice jiggly bits, but they can be a right pain in the ass. Can't they?" Troy laughed, jumping up and down on is bed.

"You have no idea," Ryan giggled back, the bottle sloshing slightly onto his covers. Troy's shirt was dangling off of him, and he was only wearing one sock, making him the worst (or best, in some eyes) off of the pair. Ryan had his silky tie wrapped around his head. The original plan was to have a little each and top it up with water. If they chose that route now, Taylor may as well suck on grapes. Which wasn't what Chad intented her to be sucking at the end of the night.

"And you know what else?" Troy smacked his lips together. "Your sister. She's a bitch." Ryan silently agreed, before passing the bottle over the gap to Troy. "She's got a nice ass though. Very nice." Troy concluded. He set the bottle on the ground and reached over to Ryans bed. Steading himself, he crawled over and landed atop Ryan. "You have very pretty lips," Troy said, grinning. He placed a finger on Ryans plump lips. Ryan heart stopped slightly again. Was this the moment? It was nearly how he had imagined it, sun setting in the background, Troys ab's glistening. The wine had been an unplanned, though not bad addition.

"They make me just wanna," He paused. Then Troy took the back of his head and pulled Ryan towards him. It might have just been the alcohol, but he just NEEDED to know what Ryan's lips would feel like. Touching his. Kissing his. Their lips touched gently and Troy pulled away, still grinning.

"See. They feel as nice as they look." Troys hands were clasped under Ryan's back. Rynas hand lay gently on Troy's heart. But then Chad burst in, interupting their bliss.

"What...the BALLS!" He yelled, brows furrowed. Ryan and Troy leapt off each other. Chad marched across the room, to his bottle. Fuming, he snatched it up of the table. "This is expensive!" Ryan cut in,

"I can repay you for the booze," he said, chin on chest. Chad clanked the bottle back to the table and carried on,

"That wine was important! That wine had a mission! THAT WINE WAS GOING TO GET ME SOME ASS!" he yelled. Whilst ranting, he had failed to notice Taylor enter the room. She was stood by the door, one heeled foot pointed, weight uncentered, hand on hip.

"Get you some ass, huh?" She said quietly. Chad's expression switched from anger to wide-eyed shock. "Oh, you won't be getting any _ass _for a long, long time!" she said hurriedly, storming out of the room. Ryan heard a 'jackass' under his breath. Chad tore out after her.

"Uh-oh!" Troy laughed, clamping his teeth over his bottom lip. "I'm sleepy," he muttered.Ryan watched in peaceful content as Troys eyelids slipped closed. He mutterd a 'night Troy,' before he switched of his bedside lamp and drifted of himself.

When Ryan awoke, it was still dark. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he grabbed his jeans, which had been lying on the floor, and walked out to the balcony. He could hear Chad grunting in his sleep. Standing on the balcony, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit up. To his suprise, he found Troy stood next to him. With a cigarette between his forefinger and middle. Ryan's eyebrows dissapeared under his hairline.

"You smoke?" He said on his own wave of tobacco.

"It's our little secret." Ryan could tell he was was still slightly drunk from two things. A) He was slurring lightly and B)He wasn't complaining of a hangover. "My way to relax,"

'Yeah, that and expensive wines.' thought Ryan. Stumbling a little, Troy walked past Ryan, place a hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"And thats our little secret too,"

**THE FRENCH**

**1.** Hello Children. Can you please be so kind as to answer you names so I can assign rooms?

**2.**Right here, Ma'am.

**3.**And Ms.' Montez and Mckessie

**4.**Good. You young ladies will be in room 104. Second floor, take a left.

**5.**Misters Bolton, Danforth, you will be in room 120. The second flor, take one right .Wait, there is one boy left... Mister Evans, you'll be in the same room.

Reveiw please!!!!Ideas are cool too!


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